


Repentance

by icylangdon



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Priests, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Boot Worship, Church Sex, Dirty Talk, Dom Michael, Dom/sub Undertones, Exhibitionism, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Humiliation, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Power Play, Priest Kink, Punishment, Reader-Insert, Religion Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Seven Deadly Sins, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 15:04:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylangdon/pseuds/icylangdon
Summary: you’re a sinner. luckily for you, michael langdon is willing to help you repent.





	Repentance

You weren’t a religious person; not by any stretch of the imagination. You couldn’t recite a Hail Mary to save your life, and the last time you’d been inside a church was at your cousin’s communion years ago.

It felt so familiar yet so foreign, like the broken remnants of a dream from years before, as you made your way up the rain-slick stone steps of the old white church from your hometown. Against the dreary white sky stretched the slender branches of dead trees, splayed like corpse’s hands without their usual sheaths of greenery.

Why am I here? you thought, pulling your jacket tighter to your body as you took in a shuddery breath.

It was a good question that you didn’t have an answer to. You hadn’t planned to come here, but there was just something about the outdated building that drew you in; as you’d passed it on your drive home over break, you’d let your gaze linger perhaps too long, eyes traveling over the fading wooden planks and pointed steeple, topped with a lopsided cross that almost seemed ominous as the rain swirled around it. You’d found yourself wondering, half-heartedly, if the place was haunted.

This was the church your mother had been made to attend when she was a child, adorned with pink ribbons and patent-leather shoes. Was it always so creepy? you remembered asking her in passing.

You pushed open the doors of the church, wind rustling your hair back as you made your way inside. The inside of the church smelled musty and was visually unremarkable, furnished with rows of wooden pews, dust-laden bibles tucked into the compartments attached to their backs.

There was nobody there, which you’d anticipated, seeing that there had been only a few cars in the parking lot when you’d arrived. All at once you felt stupid for having shown up, unsure of what your goal had been to begin with.

The only sound in the church came from your boots against the blue velour flooring, fingertips tracing the cool edges of the pews as you made your way towards the back, where the altar was. Adjacent to the altar was a small wooden booth, which you immediately recognized as a confessional. Your grandparents had taken you to church, once when you were very young, and had insisted you sit in the booth and confess your sins. You’d felt so grown up sitting there behind the curtain, the small space seeming much more expansive in contrast with your petite frame; with your head bowed, you’d solemnly told the priest that sometimes, you took extra cookies when your mother’s back was turned, and in turn he’d instructed you to recite a Hail Mary.

Approaching the confessional, you tugged idly at the heavy velvet curtain, running your fingers over the frayed material. You wondered what sorts of sins you might confess to now; it wasn’t often you reflected on your actions or sought any sort of forgiveness, at least not from an omnipotent being that you were unsure about the existence of, anyway. You pulled it open, wincing at the jarring sound of metal rings scraping against the beam that the curtain hung from. The inside of the booth was dark and smelled like dust. You coughed.

“Hello, my child.”

Startled, you jumped at the slightly echoed sound of a smooth voice drifting from the metal grate. You leaned up against the doorway, one hand drawn to your chest, squinting in an attempt to more closely view the shadowy figure apparent on the other side.

“I didn’t know anybody was here,” you said softly, heart pounding. “I- I was just taking a look around.”

“A newcomer, are we?” The voice was beautiful; with each vowel the man formed came a sort of melody, low and languid, and you realized that your arms had become overtaken with goosebumps. Was the temperature of the little booth cooler than the rest of the church? You couldn’t be sure, but again you hugged your jacket closer to you.

You chuckled, taking a step further inside, suddenly intrigued. “Something like that.”

“You don’t come to these sorts of places often,” said the voice, a statement rather than an inquiry.

“No,” you agreed. “I don’t.”

There was a period of silence, and without being entirely sure why, you reached over and pulled the curtain shut, shrouding yourself in darkness. Through the metal grate, you could see the figure of the man shift, and gingerly you sat down.

“So why did you come?” asked the priest, although something about his tone told you that he already knew the answer, perhaps even better than you did. Was all of this small talk normal during a confession?

“I- I’m not really sure,” you said truthfully, folding and un-folding your hands over your lap as you became increasingly more nervous.

“Sure you do.”

You cocked an eyebrow, shifting on the uncomfortable surface below you, moving to dig your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. 

“Is there something eating at you, my child?”

Your lips turned down at the sides as you considered this. Was something eating at you? Deep down, in the depths of your mind that you didn’t dare tread?

“I- Maybe?” you said finally. Your entire body was on edge and you couldn’t be quite sure why. You weren’t frightened, not really, but you were certainly feeling something out of the ordinary.

“You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” said the man, and you found your eyes half-closing in bliss as you reveled in the silky texture of his syllables. “Reflecting. Worrying, even.”

You nodded weakly; despite the barrier between the two of you, he seemed to pick up on your wordless reply.

“You’re afraid that you’re a bad person,” he said simply, and you could almost swear that he was laughing around those last two words, a twinge of mocking to his tone.

Your mouth went dry, and you cleared your throat. “What makes you say that?”

“Don’t we all worry that sometimes? Fear ourselves, our wickedness.”

You blinked, utterly confused at the strange turn that this conversation was taking. Yet still, somehow, you felt compelled to stay.

His voice lowered to a breathy whisper, sending waves of…something through your body and making you squirm. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret.”

“Y-yes?” you croaked, eyes wide as a single slat of pale light fell upon the man behind the barrier, and for a brief moment you could see an eye, hooded and blue, looking in at you.

“We’re all bad people. Every last one of us.”

You swallowed.

“Even you, my sweet child.” He moved closer to the openings in the barrier, and you could just barely make out the shape of a pair of lips, curved and plump. “Especially you.” 

“F-father-“

“-Langdon,” he corrected. “Call me Langdon.”

You repeated his name softly, so quietly even you could hardly hear it, and you heard the man inhale sharply at this. You liked the way his name tasted rolling off your tongue, sinful and sweet. There was no way this man was a priest. But if he wasn’t a priest, then who was he?

What was he?

“You,” he began, and you could almost sense the smirk on his face as he spoke. “Are a very bad girl.”

Oh my god. This wasn’t really happening, was it? Had you stumbled into a porn set unknowingly? Once the thought crossed your mind, you almost laughed. No, he couldn’t have meant it to sound that way. He was a priest, for god’s sake.

“So what do you suggest I do?” you asked timidly, looking down to your palms, which were now covered in shallow marks from where your fingernails had been digging into the damp skin. You couldn’t see Langdon, but you were sure that his gaze would be nothing short of piercing. “Recite some Hail Marys? Ask for forgiveness? You haven’t even told me why I’ve sinned.”

He let out a dry chuckle, and you heard a dull thud as you assumed his palms made sharp contact with his thighs. “Would you like me to show you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Show me what?”

“How I know that you’re a sinner.”

You chewed pensively on your lip, before clearing your throat with a sort of self-assured finality. “Fine. But I’m starting to think you’re full of shit.” You added the last part in an attempt to lessen how vulnerable you appeared to the man; you doubted it would change much, but something told you that you were going to need all the confidence you could get.

He let out an amused hum at your words, the silhouette of a hand reaching forward and pressing against the metal. Up close, you could see the protruding veins in Langdon’s large, calloused hand, with several expensive-looking rings adorning his long fingers, and you willed away a certain feeling that was threatening to impose itself upon you.

“Come on,” he urged, and you reached out to mirror his actions, carefully placing the tip of your finger against the metal.

In an instant the world was bathed with a sudden bright, unholy light, and with each turn of your head you could see clear images; images of unspeakable darkness, of depravity and desire. You recognized them all from your dreams, from passing thoughts you’d tried to usher away, from the shadows cast across your bedroom walls late at night. The images were pulled straight from your mind.

You drew your hand back as thought it’d been burned, letting out a pitiful yelp as tears streamed uncontrollably down your cheeks. You blinked, and all at once you were back in the confessional booth, colorful spots dancing before your vision as if to taunt you.

“What the fuck was that?” you demanded, but the words sounded weak once they’d passed your lips.

“Oh, come on,” said Langdon coolly. “You can’t be that unfamiliar with your own mind.”

“Those- those things,” you murmured, teeth chattering as the booth seemed to grow colder with each passing second. “They weren’t from my mind.”

Were they?

You could see your breath in front of you now, and in one swift, desperate motion, you lunged for the curtain and tore it open, stumbling out into the light. The second you left the booth, you fell limply into the front pew of the church, heart hammering in your chest as you struggled to comprehend what had just happened.

You could hear something stir inside the booth, the door to the priest’s side cracking slightly before a man- Langdon- emerged from the darkness. He was tall and clothed entirely in black, save for a starched white collar, with golden waves cascading over broad shoulders and framing his angular face. He was handsome- devastatingly so, in fact, with fierce, light eyes and full lips that curved into a devious smile.

You supposed you should be afraid, after what he’d just shown you. You supposed you should turn and run and never look back, finally leaving your hometown for good like you’d always vowed.

But you didn’t.

“Who are you?” you asked him in earnest, breath catching in your throat as he approached you, an unreadable expression on his face as he looked you over.

He grinned, and in his eyes you saw something entirely wicked. “I’m the man who’s going to absolve you of all your sins.”

“Wh-what? You’re going to make me pray?” At this, he laughed, unbridled and loud.

“Oh, my poor, sweet, dear,” he drawled, dragging the toe of his impeccably shined black shoes along the ground as he clasped his hands neatly behind his back. “Of course not. I’m going to make you repent.”

He stopped only a few feet in front of you, tilting his head and dragging his gaze over your body, which was fairly well-covered in jeans and a jacket. Still, you felt exposed under his stare, helpless.

“But I’m afraid that you’ve committed so many sins in your lifetime that it would take far too long to have you repent for every single one,” he said matter-of-factly. “Which is why you’ll repent for each cardinal sin instead.”

“And what if I don’t want to repent?” you said defiantly, though you weren’t sure that this was the type of man you wanted to be disobeying. You couldn’t help yourself, though; you had to test the waters, see what might happen if you put up a fight.

He gave you a pointed look, and you thought he might utterly devour you right then.

“I don’t think that’s the case, though, is it?” he said, taking one hand out from behind his back and stroking the backside of his hand along your jaw. You tensed at his touch, a chill making its way up your spine when he used his thumb to trail lazily along your lower lip. “I think you want to be on your knees for me.”

You widened your eyes but said nothing, watching the cocky half-smile stretch across his perfect pink lips. Why weren’t you fighting him?

He dipped forward, bringing his face only inches from yours. He was even more beautiful up close, you noticed, and you squeezed your thighs together as a familiar ache began to make itself known between them.

“I could smell your cunt from the second you stepped inside this building.”

His voice had dropped several octaves, and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin. The vulgarity of his words had caused you to gasp, but you couldn’t deny the way your mouth watered at the sound of his velvet-smooth voice forming the word cunt.

“I could smell it when you came inside the booth, when you heard my voice.“ His eyes flickered as he paused to take a breath. “When you said my name.”

He spoke almost condescendingly to you now, and you were frozen in place as he pulled down your lower lip, running his thumb over the inside until it was slick with your saliva.

“Most people are afflicted with desires of the flesh,” he said. “But you- your thoughts were remarkable.”

“Langdon…” you mumbled, looking down to your hands as they fidgeted aimlessly over your lap. Your cheeks were hot and had flushed bright red- from the way Langdon regarded you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness only excited him.

“Never have I come across a woman who wanted to be fucked as badly as you do,” he said, so close to you now that his lips brushed against your cheek, sending a surge of electricity through your body. “And as you can imagine, I’ve encountered a myriad of sinners in my day.” 

“So what are you gonna do about it?” you breathed, surprising yourself with your sudden bout of bravery. He seemed pleased with this response, raising an eyebrow wryly before standing up straight to look down on you.

“The first sin you’ll repent for will be lust,” he said, and you found yourself biting your bottom lip at his commanding tone. “On your feet.”

You did as you were told, standing up from the pew and presenting yourself for the so-called priest. Then he circled you, never once allowing you to evade his sight, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he moved; finally he took a seat where you had been seconds before, splaying his palms over his muscular thighs.

You bowed your head respectfully as he observed you from his sitting position, skin burning under the weight of his pale-eyed gaze.

“Take off your clothes,” he said abruptly, crossing his legs and leaning back so that his long hair fell over the side of the pew. “Now.” Your mouth fell open, but you know better than to protest; there came that feeling again, sharp and prominent, and you quickly worked to pull off your jacket and discard it on the ground behind you. Next came your sweater and loose-fitting jeans, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and tugged them down your thighs, the dark denim pooling at your ankles. Once you’d bent down to take off your boots, you kicked your jeans behind you to join your discarded jacket and sweater.

You wrapped your forearms around your stomach self-consciously, all at once becoming hyper aware of the way your nipples had stiffened, poking noticeably through the thin, un-padded cup of your bra.

Langdon leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and settling his chin in his palms before shooting you a venomous stare. “All your clothes.”

You nodded, reaching behind yourself to unclasp the hooks of your bra, slipping the straps down your shoulders with a timid reluctance. Pulling away the lace fabric from your breasts, you averted your eyes to the ground as Langdon took in the sight of you.

“When atoning for our sins,” he said softly, stretching his arm out to reach your face, gently guiding your chin to look at him. “We aren’t granted the luxury of modesty.”

He patted your cheek before hooking his fingertips into the waistband of your underwear, which wasn’t much more than a flimsy scrap of black lace. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering back into his head as he seemed to be basking in something, though you couldn’t be quite sure what. He pulled them down a few inches, exposing the smooth skin of your pelvis, and impatiently you hurried to meet his hands with yours, helping him tug off the garment altogether. 

You were about to toss the underwear alongside the rest of your clothes when he shook his head and held his hand out expectantly.

Furrowing your eyebrows slightly, you handed him the bundle of fabric. You watched with slight embarrassment as he began to level it between his palms, working the material between his fingers as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “They’re drenched,” he remarked finally, lips curling into a disgusted sneer. “You really are a whore, aren’t you? Walking around with soaked panties, mind plagued with vile thoughts- and regarding a man of the cloth, no less.”

Despite the biting nature of his words, you could still see a mischievous sparkle behind his eyes as he pocketed your underwear.

“It’s despicable, really. Pitiful.” His tongue danced over his bottom lip until it gleamed with spit, and with a quick glance downwards you saw that he was hard. “You’re lucky I’m here to help absolve you.”

You ignored the natural impulse to try and cover up, the degrading nature of the situation arousing you far more than you cared to admit. Your center was throbbing painfully now, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, your thoughts roaming without abandon.

“Show me how you touch yourself at night when you’re alone with all those filthy thoughts,” he ordered, reclining again in his seat and casually tucking one hand behind his head. In this position, his erection was impossible to ignore, and your mouth nearly fell agape at the massiveness of the protrusion.

“Y-yes, sir,” you whispered, dizzy with lust as one hand crept towards your inner thigh, easing yourself into the task. You widened your stance, moving your hand to the warm, padded flesh at the top of your thighs, wincing when you discovered the abundance of your juices that had build up there.

“Go on,” he said, sounding as though he were calling a dog over to him. At this your fingers made contact with your neglected, pulsing clit, spreading your wetness as you formed tight, firm circles over it. You whimpered lowly, partly from the pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation blooming in your throat, and he smirked.

“Come on now, we both know you can do better than that,” he chided. “I want to see you fuck yourself.”

You swallowed thickly, pressing a finger undecidedly against your slit. Sensing your hesitation, Langdon’s demeanor shifted from somewhat playful to completely unamused, and his hand shot out to grip your wrist. He let out a bitter sigh before he spoke, eyes boring so intensely into yours that you shivered.

“I said fuck yourself.”

Your breath hitched and you scrambled to obey his commands, immediately slipping two fingers through your folds and past your entrance. You groaned at the feeling of your walls stretching out, wasting no time before you began to thrust upwards into yourself, struggling to keep yourself balanced as your knees weakened with your impending orgasm.

“You don’t really expect me to believe that slutty cunt of yours can only take two fingers, do you?” he said, and with a labored breath you shoved a third finger inside, gritting your teeth at the intrusion.

The sound of your fingers pumping in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar, and you shut your eyes tightly in an attempt to ward off the shame that was rapidly engulfing you.

“Harder,” came Langdon’s harsh command, and you tried your best to comply, curling your fingers and pushing roughly against your spongey inner walls.

You were a panting mess, forehead shining with perspiration and lips bitten red and swollen, when he finally stopped you. It was cruel, the way he’d waited patiently until you were on the brink of release, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain; this was a punishment, after all.

Wiping your glistening moisture across your thighs, you pulled your fingers from yourself; then, looking over at Langdon, you wrapped your lips around them and sucked off the remaining wetness.

He stood up, casting you over with his shadow as he towered above you. Stepping around to face you, he used the back of his sleeve to wipe away the beads of sweat that had formed by your hairline, a look of sincere tenderness on his face as he did so. That tenderness, however, was short-lived, and within seconds he’d returned to his unforgiving stance.

“Kneel.”

You did without having to be asked twice, knees instantly making contact with the faded, discolored carpet.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be entirely necessary to have you repent for the sin of pride. It’s quite clear just by looking at you that you have none left. Void of any dignity, on your knees, writhing in desperation like a bitch in heat.”

You blinked at him with eyes as wide and innocent as a doe’s, pressing your legs together as a fresh wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that he was merely teasing you, hoping to convince you that you were exempt from his punishment, but you knew better. There was no way he was planning to grant you any mercy- you could see it in his eyes as he leered coldly upon you, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.

“But,” he continued, just as you’d expected. “Just to be certain that you’ll be absolved, you will repent anyway.”

He lifted one leg and planted his foot on the seat of the pew, presenting you with a well-shined, expensive looking shoe, the toe of which formed into a dangerous point. “Clean it. With your mouth.”

You poised an eyebrow at the man but did not argue, fearing that he’d punish you more severely if you disobeyed. His shoe looked clean enough, not a single scuff to be seen in the shining leather, and, scooting yourself closer to the pew, you ran the tip of your tongue along the side of it experimentally. It didn’t taste like much, which helped to ease your worries, and it wasn’t before long that you were flattening your tongue and lapping at the stiff material like your life depended on it.

“Good girl,” he praised, but there was little kindness behind the encouragement. He rolled his heel back so the sole of his shoe was in your face, and with a nearly inaudible huff you began to lick up and down the patterned grooves.

Cringing at the thought of all the dirt you were letting into your mouth, you were relieved when he pulled away and jutted your chin up towards him with the tip of his shoe.

“Turn and face me,” he said, taking a step back and folding his hands behind him. You shifted away from the pew so that you were eye-level with his crotch now, eyes falling to the straining bulge in the front of his dark, immaculately pressed slacks.

A ray of red-tinted light spilled through the stained glass window behind Langdon, bouncing off the black stone of his ring as he trailed his fingers towards his belt. At a teasingly slow pace, he freed his belt from its hold, the room silent save for the soft clinking of the metal buckle.

“Most often overlooked by humanity is the sin of gluttony,” he said, the sides of his face obscured by long tendrils of golden hair. He tugged down his zipper and unbuttoned his pants, taking a moment to palm at his bulge obscenely before reaching inside to retrieve himself.

“What do you hunger for, hm?” he asked, hissing as he cupped himself inside his pants. You could see his hand sliding up and down his length just out of your sight, and you stifled the sudden compulsion to reach into his trousers and grab him.

“Do you have cravings that can’t ever seem to be satiated?” His words flowed rhythmically, tone so soft you could almost swear he was singing to you. “Do you take all that’s given to you only to find that you’re still starving?”

You bobbed your head up and down, frantic and needy, parting your lips when at last he revealed himself to you. His cock was massive, just as you’d anticipated, thick and flushed deep pink at the tip. He ran his thumb over the swollen head, smearing a bead of precum across the toughened skin around his slit.

You felt lightheaded, overwhelmed at the pure, erotic beauty of this man, this stranger, whom you’d so willingly allowed to defile you (and in a fucking church, of all places).

“You’re a ravenous little thing, aren’t you?” he mocked, fucking his hips into his loose fist with a throaty grunt. You kept your hands on your thighs, awaiting further instructions, growing restless with each passing second that his cock wasn’t in your mouth or hand.

God, you really were gluttonous.

He looked ethereal from where you knelt, full lips curved into a perfect “o” shape as he jerked himself over your face. It was fascinating to witness such a man allow himself to come undone like this, chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his brow with each stroke of his thick cock.

Tilting his head back towards the ceiling, he let out a guttural moan, quickening his tempo and bringing himself closer and closer to the edge. You were so turned on that you were fairly sure your juices must’ve dripped onto the carpet by now, a filthy proclamation of your desire; the uncomfortable throb of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed Langdon nearing his orgasm, breaths strangled and raspy.

He peered down at you, wetting his lips. “Open your mouth.”

You unhinged your jaw, angling your head under his cock like you knew he wanted. He pumped along his shaft a few more times before releasing a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic bellow of pleasure floating from his lips like music.

“Don’t even think about swallowing it.”

You felt his thick load begin to settle on the back of your tongue, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. He tucked himself back into his pants, fastening his belt before sitting back down on the pew. He patted his thighs, eyeing you sternly, and obediently you approached him and settled yourself on his lap.

His warm thigh pushed against your core with little mercy as soon as you sat down, and you found yourself grinding down against it, chasing the pleasure that he hadn’t yet allowed you to obtain. At this, he landed his palm sharply against your thigh.

“My personal favorite sin is wrath,” Langdon said, placing his hands on your hips to keep you from wriggling around on his leg. “It’s both fascinating and amusing to see all the horrible things people can be pushed to do, all because of a little bit of rage.”

He lifted you up slightly and pulled your upper body over his lap; you complied with his adjustment, situating yourself so that you were laid fully across him, your hair falling in your face as your head hung forward- you clamped your jaw shut as tightly as you could manage, terrified of what might happen should you let a single drop of his load fall from you. His hand grazed the tender junction between your ass and thigh and you shuddered, whining when he wedged his knee back between your legs.

“I can feel the rage that’s burning deep inside you, my child,” he said, gathering your hands behind your back and holding them together at the wrist. He used his other hand to push down on the small of your back, in turn applying pressure to your soaked cunt with his knee; you cried out, the sound muffled through your closed lips.

“Do you ever wonder when your grip on your own sanity will spiral and you’ll finally snap?” You stiffened your jaw, praying you wouldn’t mistakenly let anything drip, the texture of his load seeming to become denser the longer it sat on your tongue. You couldn’t afford to be disgusted by the way it’d grown bitter and cold, coating the inside of your mouth with each minimal movement of your head.

“Answer me,” he growled, kneading your ass cheek hard enough that you felt his fingernails cutting into your delicate skin.

A pitiful “M-mhm,” was all you could muster.

“Such an angry girl,” he stated, voice dripping with faux-sympathy as he circled his fingertips over your thighs, preparing you for what was to come. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

Without warning he slapped your ass so hard that you nearly forgot about the cum inside your mouth, your body surging forward before he caught you and brought you back. He allowed you no time to recover from the blow, administering a second hit to the opposite side of your ass. You ground your teeth, eyes watering in both pain and focus as you fought to keep your mouth shut. He hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times, and inadvertently a tear dripped past your waterline and down your hot cheek.

He continued his ruthless assault on your ass, each smack harder than the last, until he landed a particularly intense one that you were sure would leave a red handprint on your skin. The force was almost enough to cause you to scream, and for a moment your lips parted, unable to bring one hand to stifle yourself given Langdon’s bruising hold on your wrists. In turn, a small stream of cum dribbled from the corner of your mouth and down your chin.

You hoped he hadn’t noticed, but realized you’d had no such luck when he released your wrists and instead grabbed a fistful of your hair. Yanking your head back, he lowered himself so that he could speak gruffly into your ear, tracing shapes over the irritated skin of your ass.

“Make a mess and I’ll have no choice but to extend your punishment,” he warned. He waited for you to nod in understanding before releasing your hair, straightening himself again and promptly making contact with the swollen expanse of your backside.

Taking deep breaths, you kept your eyes squeezed shut while Langdon beat down on you over and over; you probably would’ve enjoyed the spanking had it not been for the added responsibility of keeping a load of cum in your mouth, and you were beginning to fidget. His knee was still being held unyieldingly against your crotch, his slacks no doubt slick with your arousal, the friction sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body each time you twitched.

It was clear that the act of punishing you had gotten Langdon hard again, the rigid length of his cock pressing into your side as he hit you.

“This aroused you,” he said flatly, as though it had only been just now that he’d come to that conclusion. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. It doesn’t matter how you’re being touched, does it? You’re so needy that you’re just grateful you’re being touched at all.”

He let out a taunting laugh, running his fingers through the back of your knotted hair. “You may swallow now.”

You followed his instructions right away, gasping in relief once his load was all gone. The inside of your mouth still tasted like him, the vaguest hint of savory sweetness on your tastebuds. After spending a few seconds stroking your raw ass in steady, soothing motions, he grabbed your sides, manhandling you until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his knees. For the second time during your encounter, he unbuckled his belt, shimmying his pants and boxers partly down his thighs and allowing his cock to spring free.

You knew better than to succumb to your desires, stomach churning with want at the mouthwatering sight of Langdon’s erection. All you wanted was to feel him- pump your fist along his veined shaft, wrap your lips around his warm skin, glide down his length until you were convinced you could feel him deep in your belly. He was right- you didn’t care how he chose to touch you. You just wanted to be touched.

“It’s time for you to repent for the sin of sloth, my child,” he said, massaging the tip of his cock with his thumb. “Spoiled little sluts like you are always far too accustomed to being given everything they want without ever having to lift a finger.”

He took hold of your upper thighs, pinching the supple curves while he guided you so that you were straddling him. Your breath caught in your throat; you were so close to what you wanted you could almost taste it.

“Is this what you desire?” he asked you, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist and moving your hand to his cock. Instinctively you grasped it, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you traced along the prominent veins adorning his shaft.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “God, yes.”

“You should know better than to use the lord’s name in vain in the presence of a priest,” he teased, cinnamon-scented breath hot on your neck. He ghosted his lips against your jugular, just barely placing an open-mouthed kiss against it, erupting your body into chills.

“Please,” you all but whimpered. You were subconsciously rolling your hips down on Langdon’s lap, desperate for any sort of release, and he reached forward to firmly hold you still.

“Work for it.” He placed his hands down on either side of him, lips just slightly curling upwards at the corners as he resigned to resting with his back against the pew.

You eased yourself forward, holding his cock upright by the base. Lifting yourself up, you grazed the flushed head along your slit and dipped it past your entrance, jaw already unhinging at the slight penetration. Heart pounding, you slid down onto him, tears springing to your eyes at the sheer intensity of his thickness stretching out your narrow walls.

“Oh fuck,” you grunted, eyes rolling back into your head when all at once he filled you to the hilt. Langdon remained motionless, but you could see the way he sucked his lower lip into his mouth at the feeling of your pussy enveloping him, and from the back of his throat came a low hiss.

“That’s it,” he said encouragingly, clearly unable to contain himself as he began kneading your tits in his hands. You squealed, just barely rocking yourself, still trying to get used to having something so massive inside of you. “I want you to fuck yourself on my cock. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you said, reaching over Langdon’s shoulders and gripping the edge of the pew with both hands to support yourself. Langdon repositioned his hands so that they cupped your abused ass, latching his mouth onto your sensitive nipple and swirling his tongue over the peak as you hoisted yourself up.

You brought your ass back down, losing your breath all over again as Langdon nibbled at your hardened areola. You were already beginning to work up a sweat, but still you continued to fuck yourself as you’d been instructed to, gaining momentum with each bounce of your hips.

The lewd sound of slapping skin rang throughout the empty room, melding with the strangled, depraved moans escaping your throats. Never before had you experienced such unadulterated ecstasy, and you weren’t sure that you ever would again. You were insatiable, slamming your hips down at an almost painful rhythm, knuckles turning white over the edge of the pew. The head of Langdon’s cock reached your cervix and you saw stars, unable to think of anything but your impending orgasm and the beautiful man beneath you.

“Fuck, oh fuck, Langdon, please-“ came your incoherent cries, burying your head in the crook of his neck to more closely listen to his own sounds of pleasure. He was far less vocal than you were, being the composed man he was, but it was obvious that he, too, was coming undone by the way he was clutching your ass, forceful enough to leave bruises.

He growled, bucking his hips up to meet you, sending streams of tears flowing down your cheeks. It hurt, but you loved the pain, craved it, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to forget this for weeks.

“Fuck- I-I’m close,” you croaked, blinking away a bead of sweat that had fallen into your eye, heart hammering violently in your chest.

With that, he pushed you up off of him with such power that you stumbled back and fell onto your ass, his cock leaving you just as you were about to unravel. You sniffled pathetically, watching with glassy eyes as he rose to his feet, cock shining from the wetness of your cunt.

“Envy,” he said, glaring down at you, “Is the most laughable of the cardinal sins. Desiring what others have while ignoring your own blessings is truly humanity’s biggest flaw.”

He leaned down to thread his fingers through the hair at the top of your head, yanking you upright by the root so you were on your knees. “I know what you desire, pathetic girl. Release. Unfortunately for you, though, I’m the only one getting any of that today.”

He was taunting you, enjoying the distress evidently plastered across your face as he coerced open your jaw. Then he thrust his cock into your mouth, forcing you to taste your own arousal coating him, quickly deciding on a rapid, merciless pace to fuck your face with.

You couldn’t do much more than gag, taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed himself into your throat, using your hair as reigns to direct you.

You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed flush against the neatly trimmed blond curls surrounding his pelvis, one hand keeping you in place as warm spurts of cum shot down your throat. When he was sure that you’d consumed every last drop of his load, he let you go, tossing you onto your side like a rag doll.

Sobbing softly, you drew your knees to your chest, too humiliated to lock eyes with the stoic man who had reduced you to this. You were nothing more than a sniveling mess, defiled and debased, throat aching and lips trembling.

And yet still, somehow, your cunt was pulsing, screaming to be touched.

“Please, Langdon,” you mumbled in a daze, unsure if you’d even spoken at all once the words had left your mouth. “Please.”

He looked sinfully delicious from where he stood, towering above you as you lay sprawled across the floor, and with disappointment you watched him put away his dick. Using what little energy you had left, you tugged at the pristine hem of his pants, and he tilted his head inquisitively, a small smile creeping across his lips at your hopeless state.

“Please. I don’t know what you want me to do. Just— please.” You got onto your knees, nuzzling your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging to be fed.

“Please what, my child?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away your partially-dried tears in the process. “Was this not enough for you? My cock filling your mouth, your cunt? You’re asking me for more, when I’ve given you so much already?”

You lowered your eyes, ashamed.

“How fitting, then, that your last sin to repent for is greed.”

He gripped your upper arm and jerked you to your feet, casting you haphazardly onto the pew. Langdon licked his lips, admiring the view of your naked body strewn across the wood, your chest splotchy and red.

“You want to cum? Is that what you want?” he demanded, sinking to his knees and prodding apart your thighs. When you didn’t reply, he gave your inner thigh a hard slap. “Answer me.”

“Oh god,” you sighed, melting at the tantalizing feeling of air blowing against your pussy when he spoke. “Y-yes.”

“Hm,” he hummed, entwining his arms with your thighs so he could keep them apart, “Very well, if that’s really what you want.”

He lunged forward unexpectedly, burying his face in your cunt, lapping vigorously between your folds and gathering your sticky secretion on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangling with his flaxen waves, unintentionally rolling your pelvis against his face. Drawing his tongue between your outer lips, he met your bud at the very top and enclosed his lips around it, adding just enough suction that you were overwhelmed. Writhing helplessly against him, you screamed out as he dropped one of your thighs and impaled you with two of his fingers.

He was cruel, the way he pounded his fingers inside of you unrelentingly, his mouth working fervently at your clit. The edges of your vision blurred, and it wasn’t long before your stomach was dropping, indicating your approaching climax.

“I- I’m- fuck!” He flicked your bud once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you were cumming, head thrown back in euphoria as your orgasm consumed you.

Your cunt vibrated as Langdon snickered against it, and it was then that you registered the truth of the matter: you were well and truly fucked. He had no intentions of letting you breathe, instead continuing to toy with your throbbing clit, a third finger pressing inside you with a filthy squelch.

“Shit-“ you sobbed, his tongue forming brisk shapes over your bundle of nerves, fingers effortlessly working you open. You had no choice but to take it; the pleasure coursing through you was so potent that it was becoming unbearable, but you were sure that had been his goal, to punish you with the very thing you’d been yearning for.

He turned his fingers inside you, angling them to hit the deepest spots that nobody else had ever been able to reach. He curled them, brushing against something spongey and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for a second time.

Just as you’d feared, Langdon didn’t stop; now he was sucking so ardently on your clit that you could hardly move, falling limply on the back of the pew, legs weak and numb under his iron grip. He continued to drive his fingers deep inside you, your body shaking feebly each time his fingertips grazed your cervix.

“Langdon- please, no m-more,” you pleaded, but he only laughed, spreading apart his fingers inside you to stretch you further. He retracted from your clit with a noisy pop, and you were about to breath a sigh of relief, until he removed his fingers from your core and used them to replace his lips.

“N-no, it’s too much, please!” You were crying now, struggling against his mouth as he moved his head downwards to lick stripes up between your folds, his thumb forming circles over your defenseless clit.

He sucked one of your outer lips into his mouth before delving deep into your entrance, starting to fuck you with his skillful tongue. You could feel that well-known dip in your belly yet again, and the muscles of your thighs tensed and contracted when he pinched your clit between two fingers.

The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you were cumming; this time, however, was different- a wave of clear liquid shot out from your overstimulated cunt, soaking Langdon’s face and the front of his shirt.

He backed away, finally, lips pulling into an evil grin as he examined the mess you’d made. You were wide-eyed, shocked at your newfound ability, sweat-stained chest rising and falling. You were sure in other circumstances you’d have been embarrassed, but right now you were far too exhausted to care.

“You’re a messy little thing,” he laughed, wiping his mouth off with the back of his sleeve and licking his damp fingers clean. “So what do you think? Have you learned your lesson?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you said, shutting your legs protectively just in case he decided to go for one more round.

“Good.” He returned to his feet, looking just as pristine as he had when you’d first seen him, save for his gently tousled hair. “And what do you say, after I’ve gone through all this trouble to ensure your absolution?” He questioned you as though you were a petulant child, resting his hands on his hips.

“Thank you, sir,” you whispered hoarsely. Your body ached all over, from your ass to your cunt to your hips to your back. Langdon would be the only thing on your mind for the next week, that you were sure of.

“I’ll be expecting you back, though, so I can be sure you’re still on the right path.”

“Believe me, sir, I will be.”


End file.
